


Leg Room

by IdrisSmith



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Sherlolly - Freeform, sherlolly fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 10:39:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7433347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdrisSmith/pseuds/IdrisSmith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While on a train ride out of the country Sherlock finds himself with little leg room, eliciting Molly to take a seat on his lap so he can stretch our properly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leg Room

**Author's Note:**

  * For [daisherz365](https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisherz365/gifts).



> Based on a prompt by [Day](http://archiveofourown.org/users/daisherz365/pseuds/daisherz365) and I tweaked it a bit...

There are about a million things Sherlock never thought he would do in life, taking over two hours long train ride to Zurich (they would need to switch train later for another over four hours ride) was definitely in the top ten. Alas, for the past year, he had been doing a lot of the things he never thought he would do. One being sitting next to the petite woman who was practically bouncing on her seat just moments ago but had started to fall asleep.

 

The woman formerly known as Molly Hooper and now known as Molly Holmes.

 

The train had been her idea. Surely they could have taken the plane Mycroft had offered as a wedding gift, but no. Molly, the ever romantic had insisted on a train ride.

 

_“Oh come on, Sherlock,” she pouted and he knew he had lost the battle. “It would be romantic!”_

 

He could never deny her, not really. There was a certain eventuality when it came to her. The more he fought it, the more he would be drawn back to the things he denied himself. Her being the first and foremost on that list. Of course, he had wanted her from the very first time he saw her. It took every ounce of self-control he had not to act upon his desire. And truly, he wanted nothing more than to just pull her into his world.

 

But, he knew it wouldn’t be fair. He had nothing he could offer her and try as he might, he would never be good enough.

 

Funnily enough, even without trying she slowly became the most important person in his life. The more he tried to keep her away from his maddening world, the more she became intertwined with him. He realized, almost a bit too late, she had always meant to be part of his world. And that it wasn’t his choice in the first place, it was hers.

 

Fortunately for them, as the years passed and overcoming several incidents together as well surviving those, the walls around his heart slowly crumble. She had that effect on people, it was always far too easy to fall in love with Molly Hooper – Holmes, she was Molly Holmes now. She was sweet, kind and caring. In fact, she probably had turned him into a sap as well and he couldn’t find it in him to blame her for that. No, he was glad that after a lot of ups and downs, they are now seated side by side with her lulling away in her dreams.

 

He shifted in his seat, trying to find a comfortable spot. With his long limbs, it was almost difficult for him to get comfortable. Clearly, anything that was not a private jet or at least a business class of a commercial flight was not made for someone of his built.

 

“S’lock?” her sleepy voice nearly startled him.

 

He hummed his respond as he tried harder not to kick the seat in front of him or took up her leg room. She seemed to fit perfectly into the seat, having more space than he did with her smaller frame.

 

 _‘Small, but strong,’_ he reminded himself.

 

“Are you alright?” she asked, her tone was heavy with sleep.

 

He turned just in time to see her eyes fluttering open, adjusting to the bright light. There are hardly any passenger in the carriage other than a number of people who Sherlock recognize and knew to be agents assigned by Mycroft. He wanted to scoff at Mycroft’s overprotectiveness, but seeing Molly hadn’t noticed the entourage, he thought it was best not to bring it up.

 

“Yes, I’m fine,” he answered a little too curtly, berating himself just as quickly as the words slipped from his lips. “Don’t worry about me, go back to sleep.”

 

Unfortunately, he realized it was a bit too late as a frown started to colour Molly’s face. Realizing how much of an arse he was, he tried to quickly backpedalled and explain himself.

 

“Sorry,” he apologized, turning his body in a weird position to look at her. He mentally whined about how his limbs were stretched and compressed. “It’s just the seat.”

 

She blinked up to him and he exhaled heavily. There was no way he should be a sour puss when he was there with the woman he loves and she was looking at him as if he was the world. Yet, he was and it was all because of the damn leg room of the seats.

 

“There’s a reason why the Holmes men never fly coach or take these kinds of train, Molly,” he said, sounding apologetic. “We’re definitely not built for these tight spaces.”

 

He watched as she blinked at him again before looking up and down to assess the agony that he was in. Obviously it was not one of the thing she thought about when booking the tickets and frankly, it didn’t even occurred to him how compact the seating arrangement would be until he got into the car where their seats were.

 

“I might’ve not considered this bit,” she said, biting her bottom lip worriedly.

 

There were tinge of red on both of cheeks, clearly denoting how embarrassed she was to have forgotten one small detail about the stature of the man she obviously love.

 

“Don’t worry about it,” he said as he shifted his body again.

 

Well, there was only about two hours left on the train ride which he was sure he could survive without breaking his bones. The chances of permanent disfigurement due to the extension and compression of his limbs are pretty low as well.

 

“Go to sleep,” he urged her, but she didn’t seem to want to heed to his request.

 

Instead, she curved her body to him, startling him a little.

 

“What are you doing?” he asked, taken aback.

 

It wasn’t that he was not used to a very public display of affection, in fact, at most time he was the one who initiated it and leaving her blushing furiously.

 

She smiled up at him, “come here,” gesturing him to move closer.

 

He decided to humour her and adjusted his body so hers could curve perfectly around his. She was quick in her movement, pressing her small frame onto him, helping him move his legs to take up the space she vacated when she swung her legs over his, practically climbing onto his lap.

 

“Better?” she asked, beaming up at the now comfortable, albeit distracted, consulting detective.

 

Sherlock chuckled, only Molly could find the simplest solution to a problem and he meant that as a compliment. He would most probably have just struggled through the entirety of the trip if it had not been for her. And complain, he would’ve definitely complained all the way through it. Comfort was not a luxury for him, it was a way of life saved for two years he was away of which he had spoken to her about but rather not spare another thought on.

 

Life had changed, what should end have ended and he didn’t feel like he should dwell on things that had happened. It wasn’t as if he could change them. Well, unless Mycroft had invented quite heavily on time travel machine of which he knew nothing about.

 

“Yes,” he answered easily as he pressed his lips on to her hair. She was warm against him, snuggled all too happily and he can’t say he had ever been quite pleased with his life before her. There were always constant boredom that kept creeping up before he allowed himself to be as human as he actually was.

 

“Good,” he heard her reply, clearly she was falling asleep again, comfortably on him.

 

He couldn’t help but smile and it was then he made a mistake of looking up, catching the eyes of one of the agents Mycroft had sent, sitting two seats away from him but well within the line of his vision. The man looked positively pleased with himself, tears were brimming in his eyes and handkerchief was already in hand. It was almost comical and Sherlock felt his face burned in embarrassment.

 

In all honesty, he wanted to berate Mycroft for sending even one person as security (not like they need the security, still Mycroft insisted with the help of Mummy) but all thoughts of arguing with his brother flew out the window when he heard her voice, very softly as she shifted in her sleep.

 

“I love you, Sherlock Holmes.”

 

A smile was wide on his face, the one similar to one he wore on many happy occasions (including their wedding, despite his reservations of such events) involving her and around her in general.

 

If he believed in God, he would say only God would know how much he loves Molly. But, he didn’t.

 

So, he said it in a whispered, even when she couldn’t hear it in her sleep addled mind.

 

“I love you too, Molly Holmes.”


End file.
